Present:
You open the door of your dressing room and peep your head out of the door, looking for your stylist or any kind of staff. But the halls of the AMA's waiting rooms were empty.
"Brenda?" You whisper out into the hall and then mentally slap yourself because obviously no one could hear your voice.
"Brenda?!" you call out louder to the emptiness, your echo mocks you.
You sigh and step out from the dressing room into the silent halls of white. You didn't know where the heck where you were going so you spin yourself around with your eyes closed and your finger pointed out. After three or four turns you stop yourself and open your eyes to reveal your choice of direction only to find your finger pointing at your dressing room.
Another helpless sigh.
It's not a bad idea though, maybe I should just stay in there.
As your feet start leading you back into the room, the sound of loud heels clicking against the ground cause you to turn around and you find yourself facing the very woman you've been looking for.
Brenda walks towards you quickly "There you are! Oh dear, what happened to your face?"
"Huh?" you look at her startled by her rude comment.
She grabs your arm and starts dragging you down the hall. You almost stagger as you try to keep up with her quick pace in your high heels. "Quickly. You need to get seated, they're about to announce the Artist of the Year award and you're nominated for it."
Her words comes out too fast for you to process them properly. "Pfft! That's what you're worried about?"
She eyes you oddly "You're Y/N."
"Yeah." you acknowledge "But I've been an artist only for about several months. I ain't gonna win."
You reach the backstage door that leads you out into seating area. "But like I said-" your stylist continues and looks at you solemnly "You're Y/N."
She ceases dragging you and lets your arm loose. She swivels to face you and smiles brightly "Copy my face when people look at you, capiche?"
Rolling your eyes, you tell her. "I will, don't worry."
Since you were a new artist your label always reminded you of how crucial it was that you made yourself fully approachable to the public. Which meant most of your days were full of forced smiles and fake laughs.
You straightened your back and put on a friendly face. A different woman with a headset approaches you "Follow me." she simply says and you do as your told.
The only light that's shining is on the stage, leaving the whole arena dark. Even though you don't know the woman you grab onto the back of her black hoodie as she walks in front of you. Knowing you, there was definitely a big chance you were going to trip on some kind of wire and collapse onto your face.
As you walk behind the woman you pass many celebrities sitting in the front row, making your way to the other side. The arena was dark but everyone's features were still visible to you. You feel the air thicken and your lungs make it hard for you to breathe as you find yourself passing seven familiar men. You keep your head down low and pick up the pace. You almost expected one of them to stick their leg out and trip you or mutter a swearword. Anything. Anything that made you suffer for what you did.
It feels like you're clawing through thorns as you make your way past them as fast as you can. But the floor seems turn into sand and you feel like your steps are slowed. You don't dare lift your head up, afraid to look any of them in the eye.
You finally make it past them and continue to walk slowly again. The lady points at an empty seat next to Camilla Cabello and leaves you.
She looks up at you through her fringe and gives you a toothy smile "Oh hey girl!"
"Hi." you give her a big smile and seat your self down slowly in your tight dress.
The performance finishes and people start applauding. The singer smiles and then disappears into the backstage as a host walks on to replace her. "Alright! Now, new and old artists have been nominated for this category...."
You feel a gentle elbow nudge you from beside you. "I bet you're going to win this. You have to." Camilla says nodding.
"Uh...." you let out a small nervous laugh "I don't know I'd rather not get my hopes up."
You hear the host say excitedly into the mic "Here are the nominees!"
The screen lights up and a clip of the 'Havana' music video plays with Camilla's name placed at the corner in bold letters. "Camilla Cabello" the screen announces. The crowd goes wild at the announcement.
She shrugs "I'm just stating the obvious. Ever since your debut you've been climbing the charts."
You give her a questioned look "What? So have you." you state humbly.
"Y/N" as your board announces your name, the crowd screams again. A hundred times louder than before. You look up to see your face staring down at you intimidatingly from the screen.
"Just definitely not as much as you, babe." She winks and leans back in her seat as she watches the rest of the video.
You lean back in your seat too, a sudden feeling of guilt growing in your stomach. You didn't feel so great anymore. You had wanted this success but you felt like it was the wrong type. You felt like you were stealing the spotlight from everyone else, stealing all of their awards. You felt guilty.
"And the winner is......" the host says, she struggles to open the envelope. She manages to get the card out, her eyes scan it and she turns to the audience a huge smile plastered on her face.
You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing for yourself to disappear.
Not me, not me, not me.
You repeat in your head, hoping to drown out the winner's name.
"......Y/N!"
The audience stands up and give you a congratulating applause while the rest of your fans made noise. You swallow and stand up as you appear on the screen.
"I knew it!" Camilla squeals and gives you a big hug, squeezing you tighter than the dress was.
You let go of her as soon as you can. You start walking up the stairs to the stage and smile widely at the host. The host smiles back and kisses both of your cheeks before handing you the award "Congrats, dear."
"Thank you." you say breathing heavily.
The sharp glassed trophy weighs heavily in your hands as you turn to the audience, still smiling. "Thank you so much guys, oh my gosh!" you let out a girly squeal and laugh.
"You guys are the best, I am so thankful to my fans right now." you say into the mic "I would like to thank my manager, my production team, my stylist, my record label and....."
Your voice trails off as your eyes lands on someone in the audience who was blankly staring at you. The person you truly had to thank.
"......and BTS's Suga." you say, staring him straight in the eyes. The audience screams at the mention of his name. You're eyes stay on his and watch his expression change. His eyes grow wide, his mouth drops and he blinks wildly as if he thought he didn't hear you right. The rest of the member's faces grew shocked too, they all turned towards Yoongi. Jungkook's eyebrows furrow as he stares at you intently.
"The man who truly-" you start to say "-started my career, the one who shone the spotlight on me and gave me so many opportunities to be where I am today." You finish and give him a teary eyed smile. He closes his mouth slowly and gives you a nod of appreciation.
You turn to leave the stage through the backstage, almost running off. When you're finally off the stage you collapse on the ground into tears.
.
Past:
Yoongi repeats himself "Y/N, I'm not even kidding right now. You should actually think about using your talent."
Even though he repeats himself and you repeat his words in your head several times, you still don't manage to believe them. You grew up dancing but what nobody knew was that all those years you had also had a huge passion for music. Years ago when you had just finished school at 18, you attempted to sell and produce songs but you were barely successful. A small record label signed you. Your days were filled with you on the street selling your CD's or singing your songs as people chucked coins into your guitar case.
A shivers creeps down your spine as you remember sadly closing the guitar case every time at the end of the day with a few coins rattling. You remember walking down the streets alone at night, crying silently and wondering why no one liked your music. Since then you never once touched a guitar, never once sang a note, never once went back to your music.
You push the horrid thoughts away and look away from Yoongi. A quite 'no' comes out of your mouth. "Music....it's not my thing......anymore."
"Anymore?" Yoongi says in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Why? You're so good."
You refuse to believe his words and continue to look away. "I'm not as good as you think, trust me."
He gets down from his chair and kneels in front of you, cupping your hands. "Y/N, look at me."
You hesitate for a second but the deepness in his voice convinces you to turn to him. As he holds onto your hands he looks deeply into your eyes and you believe every honest word that comes out of his mouth next.
"You breathe out music. Your body radiates through your dance but when you sing, you and music become one."
You blink at his deep words and breathe out a heavy sigh ".....fine."
He lets out a loud high pitched noise "Yeha!"
You laugh at the unexpected noise. Yoongi wastes no time and grabs your hand, ripping you from your chair. He drags you out of the room and runs down the hall with you dangling from his hand. You let a out a small shriek and question "Yoongi, where are we going?!"
"Well, hate to break it to you but I'm not actually the head of this company so I'm going to talk to Bang PD nim about it." he answers.
"Eh!" you hold your running and plant your feet into the ground "Hell no, I'm sorry, no. I can't ask him of that."
You were pretty sure that Big Hit thought you had been slowly seducing the boys one by one, if Yoongi was the one to suggest your career then it would only make you more suspicious.
Yoongi gets tugged at your sudden stop and his body pulls back. "Come on!"
With all his effort he tries to drag you, but you don't an inch as you resist his force.
"Uh is everything okay?" a deep voice from behind makes you jump.
Jungkook appears wearing a tight white shirt, showing off his toned muscles as he sips his tiny carton of banana milk and stares at the both of you playing a tug of war.
"Yah Jungkook! Help me take her to Bang PD nim!" Yoongi shouts at his younger friend.
Jungkook looks at Yoongi then looks at you then looks at how you were struggling against Yoongi's pull. Without another question he shrugs "Okay."
He sucks the last few drops of the carton and then chucks it on the floor.
"Yah don't litter you dipshit-YAH!"
You shout as he lifts you up and chucks you over his shoulder. "YAH! JEON JUNGKOOK!"
You throw fists at his back as you hang upside down.
"Sorry, princess. Just being your little prince, that's all." he says, carrying you. He seems to be unbothered by the fact you were shouting at the top of your lungs and punching him.
"What? What are you talking about?! Put me down!"
But neither of them respond as they approach a short and plump man.
"Um, may I ask what you guys are doing?"
You hear Bang PD nim say.
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A/N: I've already my first day of Year 11 and I'm already exhausted. I hate school, I would honestly much rather write five chapters a day while staying in my bed.
Musclekook tho